Green Drakes

Metolius

Yesterday was a beautiful day in the Cascades of Oregon.  Nice spring weather and lots of sunshine (well, until it started pouring rain).  I was luck to have decided to take the day off from research and fish the Metolius.

I had been hoping to find rising fish, but found none despite a decent hatch.  I was able to catch a nice rainbow and whitefish while nymphing, but was really hoping for rising fish.  Mayfly after mayfly drifted downstream, but none of the fish bothered to take them off the surface.  I waited until the hatch started to die down and decided to head elsewhere on the river.

After the short drive, I searched some of the usual haunts that have rising fish.  I couldn't find any fish and I couldn't find any bugs.  I sat and watched for a few minutes and thought I saw a ripple caused by a fish.  It looked like a fish had taken something just beneath the surface.  I figured I was seeing what I was hoping to see and not what was actually happening, but I kept an eye on the spot.  A couple minutes later, I had confirmation that it was a rising trout when I saw his nose just barely break the surface to take a bug off the top of the water.  That was it, I finally had a rising fish.  It looked  like a small fish, but a rising fish is a rising fish.  After several attempts, I was empty handed and hadn't seen another rise.  So, I decided to give him a rest and nymph a nearby run.

On my second cast with the nymph, I hooked into what felt like a nice fish.  After about 20 seconds, the hook came free.  I tried several more casts, but no luck.  So, I went back to the bank and looked for my rising fish again.  I didn't see him rising, but I decided to throw a few more casts.  Nothing.

I was just about to head out, when I saw a large caddis fluttering on the surface near where I had seen the fish rising earlier.  After a few dips on the surface, the caddis disappeared inside the large mouth of a trout who left a large swirl.  This wasn't the small fish I had thought I'd seen.  I put on a caddis and mad the cast with my hear racing.  I anticipated the rise, but it never came.  So, I twitched the fly.  Nothing.  (Someone needs to create a fly with flapping wings.)  I changed flies and tried again.  On the third cast I saw the trout slowly swim up and confidently take my fly.

I set the hook and realized this was a really nice fish.  At first he seemed to be fin just thrashing his head back in forth.  I was okay with this, since I wasn't sure how much the 5x tippet and 3 weight rod could handle.  After a short fight, he decided he'd had enough of me and swam across the river and well downstream.  I ran after him, trying to keep good pressure on him, but not breaking him off.  I finally had him beat and got him in the net after a few failed attempts (it was hard to fit him in the net, so it was a struggle).  I finally had my rising fish for the day, and what a fish. 

Sometimes it's good to be patient and observe what's going on around you.

Sorry, the camerawoman had to work, so the picture isn't great.  Here's a picture of the rainbow I caught nymphing earlier in the day.

The Curse Is Broken

I was beginning to think my new fishing hat was bad luck.  After getting a new fishing hat, I have lost several fish.  Last week I broke a fly rod trying to land a steelhead.  First time I've ever broken a rod.

Well, if there was a curse, it is officially broken.

Sometimes you just have to laugh

While fishing on the Metolius the other day, I found some rising fish.  After several failed casts, I thought I figured out the fly that I needed.  Sure enough, on the second cast I fooled what I thought to be the biggest of the bunch.  I was feeling pretty good about myself and took note of just how smart I was.  After a short struggle, I had the rainbow trout almost in.  He decided to swim towards me in a last ditch effort to get free.  I stepped back in hopes of keeping the line tight and I succeed in doing that.  I also succeeded in having my feet slip out from under me and go crashing to the ground.  I somehow managed to land on my line and the fish quickly broke the line.  So, I tied on new tippet and a new fly.   I hooked another, much smaller fish and had it at my feet when the fly popped out and somehow flew up into the tree behind me.  It was higher than I could reach and I had to break it off.  All I could do was laugh at this.  The fish had won this round.  I was no longer feeling so smart, but that didn't really matter as I laughed at this misfortune.  I'll be back again and next time I'll try to find more solid footing and I know what fly to try again.

Gallatin and Madison Rivers

To close out the fishing on our trip we fished the Gallatin River (inside the park) and the Madison River (outside the park).  I thought the Gallatin was a perfect little river in the park but it's very close to the highway, which is unfortunate.  I caught a nice rainbow and westslope cutthroat (third subspecies of the trip).  On the Madison we were mostly foiled.  With both of us hooking nice fish, but only keeping them on momentarily.  We were a little disappointed in the fishing, but if we had caught one of those big fish we might have felt differently.  (To be fair I caught a couple monster whitefish.)

Madison River at dusk

More Slough Creek

Slough Creek

Slough Creek is probably my favorite place to fish.  It's sight-fishing with dry flies for native cutthroats.  How can you beat that?  Oh, and some of them are rather large.

We didn't run into an epic grasshopper day like last time, but we did catch quite a few nice fish.  The camerawoman even got into the action.  After some frustrating misses and small fish, she finally caught a really nice fish.  And then another.  I think the pictures tell the whole story.

Yellowstone River

The Yellowstone River inside the park has a certain allure to it.  Historically, it was one of THE places to fish.  Unfortunately, due to a Lake Trout invasion (for more info and to donate to the cause, click here) and whirling disease the run of fish from Yellowstone Lake is not what it used to be.  However, there are still a few large trout that run up the river to spawn and hang around to feed before moving back into the lake.  These fish are survivors who have overcome long odds and the harsh realities of nature (as well as the man-made curve balls).

Thanks to Britt's spotting and ML's spot picking, I got an opportunity to cast to one of these trout.  At first she was cruising around and ignoring any offerings.  (Prompting someone, who will remain anonymous, to refer to the fish as a "jerk.")  As the daylight faded, this fish took up a feeding position at the edge of the current. I placed a cast to drift my fly at the edge of the current and it was fish on.  A few minutes later and the largest cutthroat of my life was in the net.  What a beautiful fish.  Clearly an old hand who had seen many tough Yellowstone winters.  (After seeing how pretty the fish was, she was no longer considered a jerk.)  As I let her go, I hoped she will be back a few more years.  Hopefully, several of her offspring will return in the future.  Maybe then there will be more cutthroat in the lake and river.

Grey's and Blackfoot Rivers

We just got back from a trip through fishing paradise with Britt and my parents.  I put 2,341 miles on the rental van (perfect for 4 people, fishing and camping gear, but lacking in a tailgate for changing waders) and spent over 53 hours driving.  It was worth every hour driving as we had a great trip.

The first fishing destination was the Blackfoot River in Idaho.  It was much lower and warmer than last September.  Trout were not in the same spots.  I tried but did not catch a fish.  I only saw a couple trout and a lot of suckers.  I'm guessing this will not be a banner year for the river, but I'd be happy to give it another shot when it has more water.  (I also failed to reconnect with my dog friend I met there last year.  I'm sure he's happy somewhere, hopefully getting spoiled.)

The next destination was the Grey's River in Wyoming.  It's a very pretty river, but very popular.   There were campers up and down the river.  It was good to get out on the water and catch some fish on dry flies.  The fish were not big but they were fun to catch.  I took pictures of one of the fine spotted cutthroats I caught, but it's a little blurry.  The pictures from later in the trip are better and I'll get those up later this week.

Deschutes

The other side of the Cascades is a different world.  We left behind the green Willamette valley in order to camp and fish along the Deschutes for the weekend.  The river has a certain rugged beauty to it.  For one thing, there is a lot more brown and a lot less green.  It is easy to find where the river is since it is surrounded by a strip of green.  The area has  different feel to it.  It feels more "Western."

The river was certainly pumping out a lot of caddis.  Every time I bumped into a bush a swarm of caddis would fly out.  These caddis apparently provide a good meal to the fish (and other insects, as I saw more spiders in 2 days than I have in the past year).  The fishing Friday was good for lots of smaller fish.  Saturday did not provide the steady action of the previous day, but had an exciting ending.  As the shadows grew long, the fish became active.  Rising consistently to the hatching caddis.  I managed a couple smaller fish (including my first pikeminnow) when my fly disappeared in a boil.  My reel sung as I began to see parts of my fly line I hadn't seen in a long time.  I managed to gain some ground when the fish made another long run.  I somehow manage to avoid any snags and he didn't head into the main current.  I managed to turn him around and started to regain some of my line.  I felt his head shake and then there was no resistance.  Later, I got some redemption landing a nice, fat fish.  There were still fish rising, but it was getting late and this seemed like a perfect way to end the day. 

Backcountry Lake

What is this?  A blog post?  With pictures?!?!  Life has gotten in the way of having fun recently.  Britt and I went for an overnight backpacking trip.  We didn't expect perfect weather or solitude, but we were hoping for a little.  Unfortunately, the lake was crowded and the weather on Saturday was miserable.  Seeing how it snowed there the night before, it could have been much worse.  Sunday morning was beautiful.  The lake was calm, the sun was out and we got a great view of Three Fingered Jack.  I managed to catch some fish (and get a little too much sun).    I'm feeling a little sore today, but am looking forward to the next adventure.

Spring is here

The weather was too good this past weekend not to get out on the water, even if the water was higher than I would like. Managed a few small cutthroat yesterday in the afternoon. Looking forward to getting out some more and hopefully having better luck.

Pick up your beer cans

Yesterday, I fished a coastal stream I hadn't fished before. It was a pretty creek and full of steelhead smolt and small cutthroats. I kept thinking there had to be steelhead around, but hadn't caught anything over 6 inches. As I pushed further downstream, I still was hooking tiny fish left and right (luckily with barbless hooks if you let slack into the line you can get the fish off without even having to bring it in). So, I decide to head upstream. I noticed some beer cans where I parked, so I picked them up and threw them in the back of the truck. I headed upstream fishing anywhere that looked inviting. Still no luck. I finally reached a little bit of a canyon. There was a really inviting run that looked like it had to have a fish. First cast and I appeared to hang up on the bottom. Then, as sometimes happens but not as often as I'd like, the bottom started to move. (I'm not sure why steelhead seem to be slow to react to getting hooked sometimes. Maybe it's only fish that are used to being hooked that react right away, I'm not sure.) After a few headshakes the fish ran upstream, racing to get under a rock ledge. Knowing that this almost surely meant my line snapping on the rock, I pulled back. I felt the line go limp and thought the fly had come free. To my surprise I saw him leap clear out of the water towards me and then head across the stream. Somehow he was still on. I managed to get below him in some soft water and went to tail him. As I went to close my hand he realized the situation he was in and bolted downstream. I raced down after him, hoping not to trip or find a deep pocket of water. I managed to get my line back reeled in and finally tailed him. It was an exciting capper to a good morning on some new water. (For the record, there are no pictures since the camerawoman was asleep in the truck. EDIT: She did help pick up beer cans.)

When I got back to the truck I realized there were more beer cans that I hadn't picked up. I apologize because I'm about to get a little preachy. I have no problem with people drinking beer in the woods or shooting their cans in the woods as long as you're safe about it. BUT, if you are going to do this, please pick up after yourselves. There were probably 20 beer cans in this small area that we picked up. Next time they go out there to do this they will probably realize someone picked them up. They will probably think one of two things. 1) "Looks like we have a maid who cleans up after us, let's just leave our trash out here again." OR 2) "Looks like someone picked up our trash. Maybe we should do that ourselves this time." I guess we'll see, but I'm hoping there won't be a pile of shot up beer cans next time.

(For some reason almost surely was the phrase of the day yesterday. Sometimes math just creeps into my head and takes over I guess.)

Chrome

Here are my first two underwater shots with the new camera. It's a little difficult taking pictures of bigger fish by yourself (especially with no net), but I thought these were pretty good. Also, here's a scenery shot.

Thanksgiving Trout

I think I have officially made Thanksgiving on the Metolius a tradition. I was a little disappointed to see other anglers on the river, but I think they all lacked the crazy needed to stay on the river long during the driving wind and occasional snow. (Or, football and turkey trumped fishing for them.)

Britt and I had a good day, although the camerawoman was absent for most of the action. She did play her part in the pictured fish, as she was the scout who found this rising fish. All in all a good day, even if the typical 2 hour drive home was a little longer due to the weather.

Hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving.

Brook Trout

While the changing seasons do mean that the summer fishing days are coming to a close, there are some positives. One of them being beautiful brook trout getting even more colorful.

Idaho Ramblings

My father and I returned recently from a week long trip through Idaho. We started off with tough fishing on Silver Creek and the Henry's Fork. The bigger fish did not want to cooperate and the biggest fish was probably 6". We saw some big fish, but they weren't in a feeding mood. (There was one "toad" on the Henry's Fork that was rising, but it wanted no part of what we had to offer.)

The fishing improved on the South Fork. We also had some luck on the Fall River and Blackfoot River. Unfortunately, some camera problems and camera shy fish led to only one getting his picture taken. I guess that means we'll have to go back again to get some fish pictures.

Also, if you stop at the farm (Stocking Ranch?) on the Blackfoot River for access say hello to the friend we made there. He wanted to come back to Oregon, but I had to tell him that my apartment doesn't allow dogs. He's a sweet dog, so give him a scratch on the head and he'll be your friend.

Some pictures

This fish chose not to be identified.

The Joys of Sleeping in a Tent

Britt and I hiked into a couple lakes over the weekend. It was a nice, short hike. Even the off trail hike was easy. Some fish were caught on the lakes and fish was had for dinner. It was shaping up to be a really good trip....then the fun happened.

Let me set the mood. It was a full moon and it looked almost like a flashlight was being shined on the tent. Very eerie stuff. Then around 10 that night Britt heard something. I wasn't sure what it was. It slowly and quietly walked beside the tent (on the opposite side from the moon, so there was no shadow). It went away for about an hour. When it came back again it walked by the tent, trying to figure out just what it was and what was inside it. It came back a few more times that night. We could hear it sniffing at the bottom of tent. Needless to say, it was not a very good night of sleep. Unfortunately, there was no place by the tent where tracks could have been left, so I guess we'll never know who it was.






"I swear the map says the lake should be right here! Why is it just a pile of rocks?"

Some pictures

Been a little while since I've been out fishing (too busy teaching and watching Britt win her age group at triathlons). Here are a couple pictures.